The Long Game
by SeekerMaxia
Summary: No one ever said that life was a smooth road. After an event changes Will's life, he finds out what it means to play the long game of life.
1. Prologue

**Ok, I know I should be finishing off my other story, but I've been busy these past few months, then had no motivation to write. I can assure you that it is nearly finished - I just need to get words on paper. And on my profile, I said a different story would be my next one, but I have the vast majority of that written down. I just need to wrap up the ending and majorly edit it since I don't like the style of writing at the moment.**

**As for this story, I had come up with this idea about a year ago, and started fleshing it out a bit in my mind since then. I had a sudden stroke of motivation today, and this is the result - albeit a short result.**

**Disclaimer: Ranger's Apprentice belongs to John Flanagan.**

* * *

The worst part was waiting.

It was the uncertainty of the end result. It could turn out good. It could turn out bad. But the worst agony was the waiting.

Halt looked about the main room in his and Pauline's castle apartment. His insides were churning through nerves, although he wouldn't admit this to anyone else. It was funny really; after his many years of being a Ranger, Halt could go on missions and face life-threatening dangers with none of these nerves, but waiting for news like this? It seemed unreal that the legendary Ranger should have feelings like this at all. But there they were, even if Halt denied any of these feelings.

He was certain that everyone else felt the same. He could feel the nerves radiating off of the other inhabitants in the room, despite them trying to look relaxed. Gilan, his long legs stretched out in front of him, was staring into his coffee mug; one arm was draped around his Jenny, his wife, who was snuggled into his lean frame, drawing imaginary patterns in his cloak.

Evanlyn stood over by the window, chewing upon her lip, looking out into the night. Her eyes were glazed over, not that it made any difference. Halt knew that at this late hour, nothing would be happening in the courtyard below, but didn't say anything, instead leaving the princess alone with her thoughts.

Horace was sprawled out in a chair, eyes half closed. Laid on his chest was his young son; the only one able to sleep, unaware of the worries of everyone else in the room. Halt noticed that the young child already looked more like his mother with his mop of hair, although he was rather big for his age, and would no doubt be as tall and as broad as his father when fully grown.

There were three noticeable absences in the room: Alyss, Will and Pauline. Halt wished that his wife was there with him. Her presence was enough to calm his nerves, but tonight she was needed elsewhere. And as much as Will's questions would be a distraction, Halt knew that his former apprentice suffered badly when it came to waiting, and would be liable to snap at the others for minor annoyances.

Looking down at his half-drunk coffee, Halt deliberated whether or not to add something stronger to help with the wait. But before he could come to a decision, he heard footsteps making their way down the corridor. Light, but very familiar footsteps.

Like a pair of bloodhounds, both Halt and Gilan's head snapped to the door. Seeing this, the others turned their heads in the same direction, just in time for the door to open.

* * *

**There you go, the prologue to this story-in-the-making ... or should that be writing? Oh nevermind.**

**So want to guess what is happening?**


	2. Chapter 1

**I mentioned in the prologue that I came up with this idea about a year ago, and sort of evolved, so in a way it was going to be my take on what happened after The Lost Stories. My previous stories I have kept some-what in keeping with canon, but this story can be officially seen as an AU. I have read book 12 since it's already out in the UK, so this story is very much going to deviate from the canon, but I'm planning to have references to canon.**

**Anyway, thanks to those who reviewed - they are very much appreciated, even if it was a very short prologue.**

**But that's enough of my rambling on.**

**Disclaimer: Ranger's Apprentice belongs to John Flanagan**

* * *

Will hated waiting, especially the type of waiting that was the nervous anticipation of an event that resulted in the feeling that some bug was crawling about in your stomach. Not a good feeling at all.

It had been hours now. Hours since he had sat himself upon the cold stone floor, directly opposite a solid wooden door, that was unfortunately not soundproof. Behind this door was the source of his anxiety. Shifting his position, he winced as his muscles protested at the movement. He had no idea how long he had been in that same position, but it must have been quite a while since years of training had enabled him to be able to sit in one position for practically hours before his muscles became all stiff.

He guessed that it must have been an hour or so past midnight. Normally he would have been tucked up in bed, asleep. He probably would have napped here, but his nervousness prevented him from doing so. His thoughts wandered to his friends who were staying in the castle. If they were sensible, then then would be in bed, but Will knew that it was more likely that they would all still be awake, carrying out their own vigil. Will had briefly entertained the idea of joining them, but he couldn't bear to leave his post, even if it did mean missing out on a comfortable chair.

Earlier on, Halt had initially joined Will in his vigil, accompanied by a much-needed coffee, but he had left after a while, complaining that he was getting too old to sit on hard, cold floors in corridors. Halt had offered to find Will a chair, but Will had refused. He didn't think it would be fair to be comfortable when his wife was in great discomfort on the other side of the ominous wooden door. After Halt, Will had a steady stream of visitors: Gilan, Jenny, Cassandra and Horace. Surprisingly to Will, George had a turn sitting with his old Ward-mate, having a catch-up, before having to be whisked away by a Scribe-school apprentice.

Horace was the one who had stayed the longest. He had initially tried to give Will a bit of advice, but had thought better of this when he saw that this made Will's nerves worse. Horace had decided to use mindless chatter, the type of talk that soldiers used before going into battle as it was effective at taking the mind away from its worries. And it had worked, until from the other side of the door, Alyss had screamed, "Will Treaty, I am going to make you regret you were ever born!"

This audible outburst frightened an innocent servant that had just happened to be walking by, causing her to scurry off. It had also caused Will to go visibly pale.

Horace had to bite back a laugh. "She doesn't mean it," he assured his close-to-panicking friend. "Cassie said a lot worse; things that a princess should not say. But once she set eyes on Henry… she forgot all that. Alyss will too."

Will thanked Horace for this reassurance, but even his long-time friend had to leave after a while. But at least Horace had taken away the collection of dirty coffee mugs that Will had somehow managed to acquire.

A scream brought Will out of his daydreaming, back to the present. He hoped that no too many people were staying in the rooms in this part of the castle. In fact, he was surprised that his wife could make so much noise. He brought his head down onto his knees as another scream followed, sounding more determined than the previous one, before it was suddenly cut off.

Will's head snapped up, looking desperately at the door. Then came the unmistakable cry of a baby.

He let out the breath that he hadn't realised he had been holding. His body relaxed, sagging in relief, tension draining away instantly. He scrambled to his feet, just as the door opened to reveal Lady Pauline, smiling.

"How's Alyss? How's the baby? Is it alright? Is it a boy or a girl? It doesn't have extra fingers or toes does it? Can I see them?"

Pauline held up a finger, causing Will to go instantly silent. This was a technique that Alyss had found to be useful when dealing with Will's questions, which others had adopted. Halt had only wished that this had been discovered during Will's apprenticeship with him since Will had soon become immune to Halt's technique of glaring.

"Alyss and baby are well. The midwife says it is healthy and I can personally vouch that it has the correct number of digits. We just need you to wait a little longer while we clean them both up, then you can see them."

"Thank you," said Will, as Pauling started to go back into the room. "Wait! Is it a boy or a girl?"

Pauline gave a sly smile. "I don't want to ruin the surprise," she said before closing the door again.

Too excited to take his previous position upon the floor, he paced up and down the corridor, a grin plastered on his face. He didn't think that anything could take away this smile.

_I'm a father_, thought Will, _I'm actually a father._

This thought ran through his head, over and over until the door opened again, and Pauline ushered him inside.

Will's eyes were instantly drawn to Alyss, sitting in the four-poster bed, propped up by what seemed like all the pillows that castle owned. She looked pale and tired, but also beautiful, her long hair falling gracefully over her shoulders. And there, in her arms, was a small bundle in white swaddling. Will strode across the room, and sat carefully on the edge of the bed. Gazing at the small pink face peeking out of the swaddling, he thought that he had laid eyes on the most beautiful baby in the world.

"Say hello to your son," said Alyss gently.

"Hello, son," croaked Will, not wanting to reach out and touch the boy, for he seemed so fragile. Instead he stared at his son, drinking in every detail.

"Savour this moment," said Alyss, leaning down slightly to talk to the sleeping child. "This is the only time you'll ever know your Daddy to be speechless."

Will laughed and leant forward to gently kiss Alyss on her forehead. It was slightly warm and damp from sweat, but Will didn't care.

"You're beautiful. He's beautiful. I love you both so much. I can't believe we're parents."

"Neither can I, yet here we are."

"Here we are," agreed Will. "So, what are we going to call him?"

They hadn't yet decided on a name. In the months leading up to the birth, they had had plenty of discussions, but they hadn't come a solid decision.

"Daniel Halt Treaty," said Alyss firmly. "No arguments, Will. It's traditional to name babies after family, and I know how important they both are to you."

Will gave Alyss a long look, his eyes moist, before giving Alyss a smile. They had previously discussed the name of Daniel, but Will had been reluctant to name his child after a dead man, especially one he never knew. Alyss never raised the issue since, but as Will thought about it, he couldn't think of naming his son anything else. It seemed right to name his son after not only his biological father, but also the man who became a father to him.

"Daniel Halt Treaty," he said, trying it out. "It's a good name."

"That's what I thought."

"Although… Horace and Gilan will be disappointed that they didn't make the cut."

"Tell them we'll name the next one after them."

"There's going to be a next one?" spluttered Will.

Alyss gave a sly grin. "Ask me about it in a few months' time, and we'll see what the answer is. Here, you hold Daniel – it's time you had a cuddle."

Carefully, Alyss settled Daniel into Will's arms, gently guiding him so his son was securely in his arms. Daniel slept soundly, giving no indication that he felt what had just happened. Alyss leant back on the pillows, surveying the scene.

"It suits you; being a father," she said. "I this you should show your new-found position off to everyone. No doubt they'll all still be up at this ridiculous hour."

"They're too predictable. Halt and Gil should know better," said Will, shaking his head in mock chastisement.

"Go see them," ordered Alyss. "Spend as much time as you need. I'll still be here when you get back."

Will gave a nod and carefully stood up, gently adjusting his son into a more comfortable position in his arms. With one last smile at his wife, he exited the room.

* * *

**So, that was sickly sweet towards the end there.**


End file.
